


sin.

by sonsoflucis



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Blasphemy, F/M, Oral Fixation, priest!ignis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-04
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2019-03-13 09:25:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13567623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sonsoflucis/pseuds/sonsoflucis
Summary: reader goes to confessional.





	sin.

“Confess.”

Your bottom lip trembled at the low voice behind you. The warm light from a lamp across the office lit up the sharp edges of his face as he stepped around your kneeling form. 

“Ignis,” you breathed, your chest rising and falling with anticipation. 

He struck you with a thin cane. You bit back a whimper, flesh reddening. “That wasn’t what I asked for.” The strategist walked behind you once more. You could hear the faint shuffle of his shoes against the wooden floor, the hair on the back of your neck tingling. “I asked for you to confess.” 

This wasn’t the time for your defiant streak to come into play.  _Get it together._ Ignis continued to circle you like a vulture. His lithe form stepped in and out of the light almost teasingly. You couldn’t tell where he was emotionally or physically. He had complete control and as infuriating as it was, you couldn’t help but feel a golden heat rise in your core. 

Swallowing your stubborn pride, you responded with as much dripping sarcasm as you could muster. “Forgive me, Father, for I need not confess as I have done nothing wrong.” 

He stopped in front of you and leaned down. His breath hot on your face, eyes boring into your own. Something dark lurked behind his luminescent irises, the color of a lake in summer. Something he had wanted to release for some time, only waiting for your consent. He reached one gloved hand towards you, gripping your chin tightly. 

“The way I see it, you are the one kneeling unclothed in my study. I thought you might have something to… get off your chest.” As he said this, the hand on your chin traveled down your throat, between the valley of your breasts, before gently cupping one and squeezing. He continued to massage it, “But, perhaps I was mistaken. Maybe-” he dug his fingers in “-you are only here to worship.” 

You let out a cry, squirming. The leather was cold and his voice colder. He released his grip and walked toward his intimidatingly large wooden desk; you watched as your skin blossomed red where he once was. Before you could stop yourself, you retorted, “Isn’t that blasphemy? Isn’t that-” He whipped around, holding an ornate, brass crucifix. “…sacrilege.” 

“Oh, my dear girl,” he answered, back at your side, voice a heady growl. “What would a common whore know of the church?” You yelped as he dragged you to your feet by your hair. Ignis pushed you to the desk and immediately barked orders. “Sit.” The cool, dark wood was a welcome relief for your knees, even if your ass still stung from the earlier reprimand. You sat atop the desk and waited for him to come back into the light. And when he did, your breath caught in your throat. He’d removed his black dress shirt, the fine lines of his muscles caught the lamplight perfectly. He had removed his glasses and his pants were hanging dangerously low. You licked your lips, legs quaking. He presented the crucifix once more. 

“Open your mouth.” You complied quickly, almost embarrassingly fast, which elicited a chuckle from the King’s right hand. “Good girl. Now, show me how you worship your god.” The brass touched your parted lips, sliding past your teeth, over your tongue, until you gagged. “Ah, ah, pet. You know better than to disappoint me.” White knuckling the edge of the desk, you fought the urge to gag again, the crucifix headed for the back of your throat slowly. When your vision started to blur and you thought you’d never breathe again, he pulled it back out. Air filled your lungs deliciously before he jammed the brassy decoration back in. “Moan.” 

You whined as it pumped in and out of your mouth, spit coating your chest. “I said  _moan,_ darling.” A choppy moan encircled the crucifix and Ignis stopped, removing it. “Exquisite.” He palmed his growing erection, wiping drool off the corner of your mouth before lunging into a deep kiss. He smelled of coffee and cologne. Ignis’ tongue explored your mouth, the crucifix clattering to the ground. He moved between your legs and you gasped into his mouth when you felt fingers on your thigh. 

“Ah, there it is,” he purred, not once breaking eye contact as he discovered just how ready for him you were. “Pray you continue to please me.” 

He plunged one finger into you and clapped his other hand over your mouth. You couldn’t control your body anymore. Your hips bucked into his hand as he added another finger, then another. The hand over your mouth pushed you onto your back. “A perfect gift from the gods.” His eyes traveled over your form, taking in the sight of your heaving breasts, the way your hips wiggled and moved into his palm as his thumb teased your clit. “Absolutely… sinful.” 

You moaned viciously into his hand, your own hands grasping for anything to hold onto. Back arched, it was coming, it was coming, you were- 

“Oh, we can’t have that just yet. This praise is undeserved from one who hasn’t gifted it unto her superior,” Ignis taunted, withdrawing his fingers. “No… I think it’s time you found holy, holy retribution.” 

He flipped you onto your stomach and hoisted you over the edge of the desk so that you were ready to take whatever punishment you knew you deserved. You heard him remove his pants and felt the head of his member brush against your inner thigh. “Iggy, please,” you panted, straining to look over your shoulder. 

“Please what?” he growled, smoothing his hands over your ass and squeezing. “Please  _what_?” 

“Forgive me.” 

And with that, he plunged into your slick sex, inch by excruciating inch, until you felt so full you would burst. He waited a moment, leaning over to kiss your back. “Forgive you for what, my child?” He pulled out slowly. 

You sighed into the desk, almost a whine. “Forgive me for embracing temptation.” Ignis again filled you, each confession quickening the pace.

“What else?” 

You desperately wanted him to fuck you, to take you as roughly as you could handle, but he wanted answers. 

“F-for, ah, forgive me for being led astray. A-and, mnn, for not coming to confessional when I should have.”

“Oh, my child, you will come tonight.” 

His pace grew ever faster, his hands claiming every inch of you, holding onto your neck and breasts in sporadic intervals, each time he moaned was less controlled, less dignified, less… refined. Your legs buckled from the sensory overload, the full weight of his body on top of yours. Skin to skin, sticky and sweaty and hot, he peppered your shoulder with kisses before biting down. A scream bubbled in the back of your throat, but his hand was back to serving as a gag. He grunted into your shoulder, each thrust met with a whimper from you, a gravelly snarl from Ignis. His cock throbbed within you, almost there…

You both came violently, Ignis roaring into your shoulder, you dizzy with pleasure. He fell upon you, gasping. The two of you laid there for a while, waiting for the dull ache of orgasm to dissipate. Your body shuddered, finding solace in the way his warmth spread over you. Ignis stroked your cheekbone with his thumb. “A goddess laid before me,” he whispered into your flesh, licking at the salty skin. “I’ve seen heaven.”


End file.
